


In The End

by moshpitthecat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A lot longer than I thought this was going to be, Angel Castiel, Angels are Dicks, Angst, Awesome Bobby, BAMF Impala, Canon Divergence, Dean Blames Cas, Dean Blames Himself, Death, Drunk Castiel, Falling In Love, Family, Feels, Flashbacks, Forgiveness, Heart-to-Heart, Heaven, Hurt Dean Winchester, Impala Feels, Jukeboxes, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Pining Castiel, Rock and Roll, Slow Burn, kevin tran - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-19 23:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3627753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moshpitthecat/pseuds/moshpitthecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean lives to an old age, long after everyone else. Death decides to pay him a visit. Dean has no regrets, just a question, where is his soul supposed to go? Death has one last trick up his sleeve for the hunter, A blue-eyed betrayer who still makes the hunter's mouth run dry. Long ago the angel had left him and it would be just like the son of a bitch to show up now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning Of An End

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after I watched the opening of Season 9 (SPOILERS!) where Sam has the internal conversation wth Death and I thought it would be cool to write something along the same lines but with Dean instead.
> 
> This is chock full of feels, and I apologize. But the ending is worth it I promise.
> 
> Enjoy!

The old hunter had lived a full life. Saving the world several times over, stopping the apocalypse more than once, and saving more people than he could care to remember. His old bones ached, muscles thinner and fat deposits larger than his younger self would have ever let happen. He stared out at the sunrise sipping his now lukewarm coffee. There was nothing like watching the dawn of day leaning against the impala’s hood, the car that has been through almost as much as the hunter had, not a day of age showed. In the cool air of the morning the man closed his eyes, this moment was perfect. There was only one thing missing, well, two if the hunter had been completely honest with himself. H e quickly quelled the thought and sighed loudly, “Well Baby, I guess we’d better get a move on huh?” The hunter’s gruff voice sounded exhausted, as if he had never slept a full night in his whole life.

He drove the familiar road back to the one place he had felt at home. The Bunker’s familiar bat cave like tunnel into the garage never ceased to make the hunter smile with childish wonder. Parking the old car took little to no effort with the reflexes of years of experience. The door groaned with as much effort as the hunter did as he climbed out of the ancient car. “I know how I feel, I can’t imagine how you feel Baby.” The old man lovingly stroked a hand down the car as he shuffled off to the main area of the bunker. 

The bunker had aged almost as well as the hunter, maybe a little better. Thick layers of dust lay on several of the surfaces of the many unused tables in the main library area, only one or two of the tables showing their recent use, few empty coffee mugs, some open books, papers and scribblings, a box of cellphones, all strewn haphazardly. The hunter ignored these things and headed out towards the doors that lead to the field behind the bunker. He carried a paper bag with him. 

There were two simple wooden crosses sitting near the edge of the field, the trees of the surrounding wood creeping ever so carefully up behind them. The crosses were almost invisible in this backdrop, except for the foot path that lead its way familiarly to the spot below each of them, years of walking the same path to the faint smudge of a scorch mark on the earth where the grass had refused to grow back. Each of the crosses had two letters etched into them. 

The cross on the left was marked ‘K.T.’ The hunter looked at it, guilt still making him swallow hard no matter how many years passed. Nightmares still haunted the poor man, burned eyes and a sick helpless feeling that always had him waking drenched in a cold sweat and gasping for air.

The cross on the right was a more difficult burden to deal with. The old hunter looked at and could not help the sudden well of emotion that rose from his chest and settled into his throat. The simple wooden cross was so out of place sitting there. It had been too many years since the old hunter had put this death marker here, its heaviness growing with each year. The old hunter sat heavily down on the ground and pulled the bottle out of the brown paper bag. The sun was slowly creeping its way over the trees as it illuminated the crude lettering on the cross. ‘S.W’ the hunter sighed deeply. “Happy Birthday, Sammy.” The old man raised the bottle and unscrewed the cap, and took a long swig.

 

The hunter sat there a long while, drinking from the bottle with long pulls, leaning against one of the trees, thinking about past years. When he finally stood aching bones and joints that never seemed to go back to their correct places, he almost wasn’t surprised to see the other man leaning against the back wall of the bunker. “Ahh, Dean Winchester, when I saw your name come up I knew I had to make a house call.”

Death stood and leaned heavily on his cane. Dean nodded curtly. And walked towards the crow-like man. “I knew you had to be on your way. The day has been much too quiet. Any idea where I am going? Last I checked I wasn’t in the good books of either facility.”

Death regarded the hunter, “You know I don’t have that information, nor do I care for it, I am simply here to help you transition. Where would you like to go?” They no longer stood in the field, but now in bobby’s living room. “Here, before you make your decision I thought we could have a nice chat.”

“You’re wondering if I am going to say yes to coming with you. Well, I gotta say, with my track record of narrow escapes I am not sure you can even promise I will stay. So here’s the deal. If I am going with you there had better be no more tricks in the bag or last minute apocalypses you need me for because I am done.” The old man sighed and heavily fell into one of the armchairs in the study. Death followed suit sitting across from the aged man, much more graceful.

“As you are well aware I am not interested in anything of the sort, however there was one who insisted on being here when we met today. Castiel?” Death called the name as unceremoniously as if he had just been commenting on the weather and not completely shattering whatever Dean had left of his resolve of indifference. Dean’s heart pounded frantically as the seconds seemed to slow. Dean both dreaded and longed for what he knew was only a blink away. Suddenly as if he had always been there the steely-eyed angel came around the corner. Dean’s heart stopped cold when the angel’s eyes finally met his and the corner of his mouth lifted gently.

“Hello Dean.”


	2. Gifts Of Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is a nervous mess, will Dean accept him back after all this time?

Castiel stood on the opposite side of the room as if he was afraid of approaching the two men in the armchairs. Dean’s pulse quickened, first in longing but then in anger. “Why the hell are you here?” he growled defensively, years of resentment suddenly rising to the surface of his skin. He was hoping the tone covered his raw and unquenchable desire to run over and wrap his arms tightly around the angel despite how angry he was.

Dean turned accusingly towards Death who simply waved off the look with his own indifference.

“Uhm.” The deep voice hesitated, and for the first time in Dean’s entire memory the angel was speechless.

Death stepped in. “Well it seems you have friends in pretty high places, but as I have said, the choice is ultimately yours, Castiel here has requested to show you something before you make your final decision.” 

Castiel seemed to shuffle his feet nervously. Dean swallowed quickly, attempting to ignore his racing heart. Death stood and ushered Dean to do the same. Castiel headed back through the doorway he entered.  
“I will be here, awaiting your choice.” Death’s voice was lost to the hunter who now only had eyes for the retreating angel.

The old hunter pulled his wary body up from the chair and followed after Castiel. “Long time, no see Cas.” His voice sounded feeble, curse the damn thing anyways, betraying his poker face. The angel stiffened at the sound of the hunter’s voice. He lifted his gaze from the path they were tracing along the corridor floorboards in front of him to stare into the hunter’s eyes. His unchanging icy wide eyes and open expression showed nothing but longing and compation. No matter the amount of years that had passed that look always made Dean’s pulse race.

They walked to the front door of the cabin and Castiel hesitated before taking an unnecessary deep breath. He then pushed the door open and moved out of the way to let Dean pass. The sight that greeted the hunter was nothing that he had ever expected. It was almost too beautiful to look at. “Welcome, Dean, to your heaven.” Castiel spoke these words as if he were shyly apprehensive to say anything.

“Wow.” Dean couldn’t find any other words to fill the awe-inspiring silence. He stepped cautiously forward as is he weren’t exactly sure if any of what he was seeing was truly there. They were standing on a gravel road that wound towards large mountains in the distance. The air was warm and there was a breeze that seemed to gently caress his face, his heart was instantly at ease. It was like he was finally home after being away for a lifetime. His joints no longer ached and the tiredness that had become his companion had simply vanished without a trace. Looking around slowly Dean noticed the impala sitting in the middle of the path in front to them, almost calling to him. It took several minutes before Dean was able to find his voice again. “This, this is My heaven?” 

The angel looked up at him as if he were afraid to meet the hunter’s eyes. “Yes, Dean. I built it myself. What do you think?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay! Castiel is so freaking adorable and I thought it would be amazing if he were the one to make Dean his own heaven.
> 
> I was thinking of putting up a couple chapters from Castiel's perspective, what do you guys think?
> 
> I dont know how many chapters I will be able to fit into this fic, but I will try to keep writing until its finished. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!! It means the world to me.


	3. Guardian

Castiel watched the righteous man. He was a gifted hunter and very protective brother. Castiel had watched the man for a long while, from the moment he was born to the first scraped knee. The angel guarded the boy as he quickly grew, his childhood stolen by tragedy, a sudden weight of responsibility slung onto his tiny shoulders. The angel never interfered, however often he listened to the soft crying that filled the night hours. 

 

The angel watched the boy grow into a strong, stoic man. He watched as the Man continued along the trajectory he was created for. The angel often caught himself wishing there was some way to save this man from his predestined path, someway to spare this human, then as if flipping a switch the feeling was gone again and the angel continued to watch. The man grew into a warrior, a hero and often Castiel found himself stepping in to help the man, a quick handed distraction, a simple whisper of a warning in the man’s ear, or healing minor wounds, but never enough to alert the man of his presence. 

The Hunter had learned quickly to hide his emotions. It was a task Castiel had once perfected but now had found himself slipping, actually feeling humanity in it’s rawest form. The angel watched the man closely as the years passed, often feeling fear or sadness along side the hunter as he moved about his life, never aware of the guardian’s ever-present existence.

Possibly the most emotional time for the angel was when he had to watch the man suffer in the bowels of hell. For many years the angel avoided going to the aid of the man. Castiel pleaded with his father to save the man, allow him to correct the wrong, make the world that now seemed so lost whole again. When the angel could no longer endure the heavy weight of despair he went to the broken man. He slid the chains off of the worn shoulders, undid the shackles holding the soul together and stole way gripping the soul tightly as he flew. 

Castiel flew to an open field and set to work, carefully reconstructing his bounty. Each bone, joint and muscle was carved and shaped from the most precious of materials, working effortlessly from memory the angel toiled away until it was perfect; the righteous man, back where he belonged.

When the man opened his eyes for the first time, it was as if Castiel was seeing the sunrise after being blind for his whole life, if a tidal wave had pulled him under and his entire being radiated with sudden desperate longing. The angel was at a loss, he had never experienced anything like it before. He knew there was but one simple solution, he had to make his presence known to the hunter before he shattered from the sudden well in his chest. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Castiel’s hands worked tirelessly. “Why are you working so hard at this? He isn’t slated to join us for sometime, Brother.” An angel with a clipboard stared scrutinizingly at Castiel as he continued undisturbed. It had been almost a century of meticulous work, and even though angels do not need rest, Castiel was exhausted. 

From the mountains with their spider web like waterfalls and trees with thousands of leaves, to the dirt driveway and tall thin stocks of wheat in the rolling hills of the valley, it was tireless work, but everything needed to be in its place.

One of the most challenging things had been getting the breeze to blow softly and gently trough the thicket of woods. The Bunker had been another daunting task, especially working strictly from memory. He started with the main areas and slowly worked in more and more detail until it was almost finished. Time passed differently in this heaven giving Castiel time to be painstakingly meticulous. 

He had just finished building the library, complete with every book he could remember. Getting the color for the wood had been a challenge but everything needed to be perfect. Some things had been his own additions, the painting of the red kite, the window looking out into the open field, the dock overlooking a crystal lake, A junkyard full of old cars, little things to make it feel more personal.

Some heavens were easy to construct, a simple memory or one moment caught in time, but for the righteous man, he deserved more. “Castiel, you don’t have to do this. There are several hundred angels assigned to building heaven. Why don’t you take a break?” The last few words died out as Castiel finally looked up to meet his sister’s eyes.

“I need to do this.”

“I never understood the devotion you had to that hunter, He does not deserve such unconditional love. You have spent far too much time among humans. Their emotions have infected you. You haven’t been the same since you dragged that retched soul out of hell.” There was no denying the judgment and scorn in her tone.  
Castiel straightened from where he was painting blades of grass the correct sun-kissed green and rested his terrifyingly blue eyes on her. “There is no other being in existence that deserves my affections.” The other angel blinked and swallowed, quickly disappearing without another word. 

Building the thresholds to the other heavens was difficult and required the assistance of several angels. “I have never seen a heaven so closely knit together with so many others, are you sure this is going to work, Castiel?” they had worked for a long while but at last each doorway was connected worked without issue.

Finally left alone to work Castiel went about painting the sky, flecking it with thin wisps of white. The stars had taken more time than he had anticipated. Castiel had decided on leaving the weather in a perpetually warm fall day which meant making the sunrise and sunsets burn new artwork across the stunning blue each cycle of day. There was just one last thing needed to complete this masterpiece.

Getting the correct shade of black proved to be more of a task than painting the large winding river that wrapped itself lazily through the trees. After several different shades Castiel had gotten it just right. It had taken him several days to finish the impala but once he had he finally understood the pride and affection the hunter often paid to the car.

Castiel continued like this for several years, adding little things here and there until finally it was finished. He leaned against the hood of the old car and smiled warmly. His un-beating heart was nervous, and he hoped it would be enough.


	4. Wish You Were Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song Used: Pink Floyd- Wish You Were Here

“Dean, I don’t even know how to begin to apologize. I have never felt regret like I do for what I did to you. If there was any way to explain, to begin to…” Castiel's voice finally broke the awkward tension between them. Dean shook his head and held up his hand. Dean took a deep exasperated breath and sighed loudly. He looked into Cas' eyes, his jaw set tightly. Cas broke eye contact and stared at his shoes sheepishly.

“Cas, can we not get into this right now, I mean, can’t a guy be dead for five fucking minutes before this remorse shit starts.” Dean walked to the drivers side of the car. He hesitated before opening the door. “Look, what’s done is done. And I don’t think there will ever be a way to fix it. Now, does she sound like she’s supposed to?” he pulled the door open gingerly, his face lit up as the door creaked loudly and familiarly. “ooooh, baby, lets listen to you purr.” Castiel' heart couldnt help but swell as he watched Dean's approval of the car. Dean drove comfortably along the winding road, looking as if he'd be content to do nothing but drive his car for the rest of his heaven.

__

Castiel’s heart ached. It was a feeling he was growing accustomed to. His time as a human had taught him many things, dealing with lingering feelings had been one of them. Of course with his grace back the feelings had only intensified, a side effect of the grace trying to make him whole again, however the empty hollow feeling in his chest remained. Cas sat for many long hours up in heaven trying to ignore the feelings, ignore the memories, become the good soldier he once was, but he knew he would never be the same.

Castiel stayed away for a long time. Long after the desperate prayers had stopped, long after the pain began to dull, it never faded, just dulled to a low hum. Once he was certain he could control his desire to return to earth, he rejoined his brothers and sisters in their attempt to rebuild heaven. For many years he was satisfied. Until one night he heard the most painful sound he had ever heard and everything came rushing back. The fallen angel had fallen again.

“Cas, Its Sam man, he’s hurt real bad, and I just, I need you.”

__

“So you built this place, huh? Pretty freaking awesome man, hey you remembered my music! Awesome.” Dean pushed the first tape his fingers found. The solemn guitar started and Dean’s fist instantly tightened on the steering wheel. 

“So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell, blue skies from pain.  
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?  
A smile from a veil?  
Do you think you can tell?”

Castiel cleared his throat and stared at his fingernails. “I am sorry Dean. I know me saying it doesn’t fix things, but I want you to know I really am. I built this place in hopes that you would choose to stay in heaven and to,” Cas paused and looked up at the hunter as Dean slammed his fist on the steering wheel and slowed the car down to a screeching stop. “to, uhm, well, stay with me.” Cas finished with a whisper. Dean gritted his teeth so tightly that Castiel saw the muscles flex. Air hissed from between Dean's teeth as he stared straight out the windshield. Cas looked hurriedly back down at his fingers and picked at his thumb.

"How I wish, how I wish you were here.  
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,  
Running over the same old ground.  
What have we found?  
The same old fears.  
Wish you were here."

After a long silence had settled in the car Dean growled a bitter, sarcastic laugh. He ejected the tape and threw it out the window before stepping on the gas, sending gravel flying everywhere. The engine revved angrily, seeming to mirror Dean's mood. Dean's voice came out coldly soft, “So, where is Sam anyways, can I see him?” the longing in the words made Castiel want to disappear.


	5. Radio Silence

“Cas, hey. We’re going on a hunt, sounds like more shit with vamps. I know it’s not your expertise, but we could use you, either way. We, uhm, Sammy and I, miss you, man. Wouldn’t mind having you around once in a while.” Dean had his head bowed and hands folded as he sat on the edge of the shabby motel room bed.

Sam walked into the room with a handful of fast food bags. “Any luck?”

Dean shook his head and sighed. “Nah, man. And it’s been almost three months. I mean I figured with heaven being a shithole, he would be pretty busy, but I mean, nothing? Not even a fucking text. ‘Hey, not dead. Thanks for caring. Heaven’s still standing.’ Nothing.” Dean ran a hand over his face. Sam sighed and passed Dean a paper wrapped burger. Dean hesitated then grabbed it. “Cas, we got burgers. You care to pop in?” Dean waited for a while before sighing and taking a huge bite with a shrug towards Sam, who was staring at him as if Dean had suddenly sprouted a second head. 

__

Since retaining his grace Castiel had been hyper tuned into Dean’s prayers. At first it was startling to hear that the hunter after so long being graceless, and it was touching to hear Dean was still making an effort to keep him informed on current events and continuously asking how he was. Cas almost gave in and answered the poor man’s prayers, then reminding himself of his resolve, he resisted.

It soon became almost unbearable when the prayers turned more pleading and desperate and finally Cas had shut them off completely. It was strange to have the sudden silence, to have room for his own thoughts and musings. But there was also an inexplicable empty longing to hear the hunter’s gruff voice whispering to him. It took a lot more effort to focus on his heavenly tasks as he often wondered what the hunter might be praying to him about, or if the hunter had finally given up.

Castiel seemed to spend more of his time trying not to listen into Dean’s prayers then actually doing his job. It was like a craving, and unquenchable hunger the never dulled no matter how much distance he put between himself and his hunter. His hunter? No, he couldn’t allow himself to be confused anymore. This was for the benefit of everyone. 

__

“Cas, hey, I know its not usual for me to be the one doing the praying, but seriously man, We haven’t seen you around in forever. And I know Dean is really missing you no matter what he says. Anyways, we’re worried about you man. Maybe just a text now and again would be useful.” Sam sighed heavily and kept his eyes squeezed shut and fingers folded adding a couple extra pleases to the end of the prayer. He wasn’t sure if there was a technique to getting your prayer fast tracked or not but he’d seen enough stained glass windows to assume the proper praying posture. 

“Uhh, Sammy, Whatchya Doin’?” Dean’s accusatory stare could be felt through Sam’s closed eyelids. He quickly opened his eyes and wiped his hands on his jeans with a non-committal ‘I-wasn’t-praying-to-Cas-if-that’s-what-you-are-asking’ shrug and curt sheepish smile. Dean’s icy glare could freeze Crowley’s throne. Sam cleared his throat.

“So, what did the sheriff have to say?” 

“Not a whole lot.” Dean’s jaw was locked in anger. Sam nodded awkwardly, trying to ignore his brother’s obvious look that read ‘how-dare-you-commit-such-treachery’ 

“Well, I was going over the case files he gave us and I have to say this isn’t anything like I have seen before, no where in Dad’s journal does it list a case like this. And so far there is nothing in the library or the internet that I can find that even remotely describes anything we are seeing.” 

“I’m going to grab some food. Keep looking.” Dean stormed out closing the door behind him a little harder than necessary. Sam sighed and opened his laptop. Dean was such a creature of habit, once he cooled down they could actually focus on what they were doing, its not like he had soul rights to pray to Cas. Sam shook his head, no use in getting upset, that was Dean’s job. He scrolled through the files on his computer, he was going to have to buy Charlie something really great for uploading the Men Of Letters library into electronic form. It was going to be a long night.

___

The hunter had waited for many long nights to stand where he was now. His younger brother embracing him so tightly his ribs ached. "Sammy, I can't believe its really you. I never thought I would see you again. Jesus, Its been too long." he tried to hide the overwhelming emotion he was now feeling. The younger Winchester huffed out a laugh. 

"Well you can thank your angel over there, he's the one who set it all up. Bobby has been biting bullets waiting for you to get here. Come on, I'll take you to him. We want you to fill us in over a few drinks. Let us know what you have been doing in the land of the living for so long." Dean smiled broadly and his face looked like it might split in two. Cas stood off in the corner, attempting to give the brothers a little privacy. Dean Ignored him as they walked passed in into the other room. The joyous chorus of the men greeting one another couldn't help but make the angel smile. He knew he had done something right. Even if it didn't make up for the damage he cost, he had seen Dean's smile and heard his laugh and that was as good as gold for Castiel. 

The small group of castaways were huddled around a booth-esque table while drinks were being brought to them. Castiel knew all of their faces, Bobby, Kevin, John, Mary, and Ellen, who when Cas walked in looked up from her conversation to smile and wink at him, then continue on talking to Jo. It made his chest swell to see all of them together. It was like a puzzle that finally had all of it's pieces in the right order. The angel stood just outside of the warm circle not wanting to intrude.

"God, you got old." Bobby's voice was full of sarcasm and Ellen smacked him playfully. Dean beamed brightly and took a long swig of his beer, His eyes shining radiantly, free from the greif and anger they so often held. 

"Yes," Castiel thought, "All is as it should be."


	6. Remembering The Roots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Here Have all the chapters!!

Dean wished it could be simple. He wished that he could just forget everything that had happened and forgive Castiel, but he couldn't. there was just too much pain and anger still seeping into his soul. He was also afraid. What if the damned angel took off again? What if he was going to blink and all of this was going to be a dream? What if he ended up alone again? no, there was just too much pain and fear. There was no denying the rush of anxiety every time he saw Cas and in the past few weeks there had been something lingering every time he though of the angel, his heart beat fast and he got nervous, it almost felt like the old days when he had almost admitted to having feelings for the celestial being. Dean shook his head roughly trying to dislodge the thoughts. No, he still hadnt forgiven Castiel and he wasn't sure he ever could, so having confusing feelings definitely wasn't going to help him in any way. Dean rubbed his hands on the grease rag he had laying on the tool box and sighed deeply, for being a non-living guy with nothing to do but visit with friends and fix cars in heaven, he was exhausted.

"Maybe you should talk to Cas. I think it would make you feel better. You keep walking around here sulking and I think I might just have to maroon your ass on the next cloud." Bobby slapped Dean roughly on the back and slid a cold beer into his hand with a laugh. 

"I feel fine. No monsters, cold beer and a junk yard full of cars to fix up. You don't see me complaining." Dean knew Bobby could see right through his facade.

"Now dont think for a second that any of us have missed your moping about, brooding with that big head of yours. Cut yourself and that poor angel a break and talk to him. What is the worst that could happen?"

Dean drank from the beer and ignored the question. He was angry sure, but there was something more and it stopped him every time he thought about trying to talk to Castiel.

___ 

 

"Cas?" Dean's voice was little more than a surprised whisper, as if his eyes did not believe what he was seeing.

The angel stood, not in his usual trench coat and blue tie, but in a baggy hoodie and jeans. He smirked sheepishly, the skin pulling taught around his swollen and bruised cheek, causing him to grimace and stop smiling. Dean rushed to his side as the shorter man swayed on his feet. His good eye looked almost raccoon-ish with dark circles under it. "I don't think I was cut out to be human, Dean. There are too many things you have to remember to do. Eat, sleep, shower, and breathe, all so complicated." Castiel's words slurred as if he were drunk.

"Whoa, okay, easy there. Lets get you inside, huh? Get you sobered up a little maybe a shower, some food and some sleep?" Dean threw a limp arm around his shoulder and hoisted the man up by his waist. For being an angel of the lord, he was surprisingly light as Dean carried him into the bunker. Dean was attempting to get the poor man's shoes off when suddenly Cas' hands where on the sides of his face.

"I am very drunk. There was a nice gentleman who shared his homemade alcohol with me. He called it moonshine. What a silly name. His name was Dennis. We ate food out of a can. I missed you. I only had one glass of moonshine. It tasted awful but Dennis said to would make the cold go away. I was very cold. It was a far walk. I missed you." Cas' hot breaths reeked of booze, but as much as Dean struggled to get away the hands were surprisingly firm on the sides of his face. All he could do was stare helplessly as Cas drunkenly eyed him. "it is strange to be feeling anything. But Dennis said that it is only human to be confused and lost, and cold and tired and hungry. Only human." Cas giggled as if he had said something incredibly funny.

He distractedly loosened the grip on Dean's face and the hunter pulled away and went back to taking the shoes off the very inebriated Castiel. Castiel grew very quiet for a moment and Dean looked up at him, half expecting the man to be asleep sitting there. Cas' eyes brimmed with tears. "Its my fault, all of the angels falling, loosing my grace, my wings, they are just -psh- gone." Castiel's hands raised and made small explosion gestures at his sides. "and now all my brothers and sisters are locked out of their homes and they know I did it and they want to hurt me." There was a child-like edge to his voice now. "I didn't mean to, Dean. I was tricked. I just wanted to help." The man was loudly sobbing now.

Dean stood up and sat beside the blubbering angel. "Shh, shh, shh. Its okay Cas, you couldn't have known. It'll be okay. But right now what you need to do is sleep off this and we can talk more in the morning." Dean attempted to soothe the poor quivering man. He stroked his back, feeling the man heave stutteringly with every sob. He pulled the man into his chest and rested the crying mess onto his chest. Dean rested his chin on the top of Castiel's head as the drunken fool kept sobbing incoherently. Instinctively Dean stroked through the tangle of black curls at the base of Cas' neck, like he used to do when Sam had night terrors when they were kids. Without thinking Dean wrapped his other hand around the still shivering man and rocked them gently back and forth. "we'll figure this out. We always do. I will always be here for you. You are going to be okay." Dean continued to sooth the angel until he had stopped shuddering. Castiel began breathing slow and steady. Dean went to pull away but suddenly Cas gripped him tightly.

"I can hear your heartbeat. I remember when I set its rhythm. Its so beautiful." Cas tapped out the beat on Dean's spine and instant butterflies fluttered in the pit of Dean's stomach. He swallowed quickly hoping the sudden pulse quickening wasn't too noticeable. Cas sighed peacefully into Dean's chest. "I remember everything I made, you were by far the most beautiful." Castiel's hands began to wander over Dean's back tracing the well-toned muscles and drawing lines along his shoulder blades, causing Dean to sharply intake his breath. The angel lazily picked his head up off of the hunter's chest and drunkenly looked Dean in the eyes, the steely blue barely visible amongst the blown out pupils. Dean had never seen the angel like this, so raw and open, nothing hidden behind the usual controlled expression. Dean bit his lower lip and swallowed quickly again. Castiel raised an eyebrow and blinked slowly. Dean shook his head and pushed the plastered angel away from him. His pulse was racing. What the hell had just happened?

"Okay, you can sleep here. I will show you the shower in the morning. Come on, crawl up there. It'll be more comfortable if you take the jeans off, trust me." Dean half carried, half dragged the sudden dead weighted man up the bed. Cas mumbled sleepily but made no attempt on taking the jeans off. Dean sighed heavily and reached to unbutton the angel's pants but hesitated when he noticed the bulge forming in them. He swallowed hard and shook his head. He took a deep breath and unbuttoned the jeans attempting to ignore the way Cas' hips moved up to meet his hand. Dean pulled back in shock. Castiel's eyes were closed as if he was almost asleep already. Dean silently cursed and shimmied the other man's jeans off leaving him in his t-shirt and boxers. He tossed the blanket over the shivering man and attempted to make his quiet escape hoping Cas was too far-gone to notice him leaving.  
The angel's eyes fluttered open suddenly in a panic. "Dean." His voice was raggedly panicked. "Please don't leave me alone." Dean closed his eyes and cursed silently again sighing loudly.

"Of course I won't leave you Cas. I'm here; you're okay." Dean returned to the bed and leaned against it next to the balled up angel. Castiel stretched out and put his head on Dean's stomach. Dean froze and attempted to even his breathing to a normal pace. What the fuck had come over him?  
It wasn't long before Cas was snoring lightly and Dean had maneuvered his way out of the room. He closed the door gently and let go of the breath he had been holding for almost an hour. The lump in his throat was still there and his heart refused to slow down. He shook his head and made his way into the living room. He pulled a blanket and pillow from the linen closet and lay down on the couch. His mind raced with what the hell had just happened. It was like his brain had finally caught up with his soul. But no, it couldn't be telling him what it was currently telling him could it? He shook his head vigorously and decided it was just worry for Cas, the poor guy looked like he had been through a blender. "Yeah," he reassured himself, "that's exactly it, worry and concern for my friend." His mind was satisfied, but his heart still pounded in his chest, the rhythm Cas had designed, uncomfortably loud in the empty room.


	7. A Familiar Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BE WARNED! SUPER FEELS AHEAD!
> 
> *Spoilers*
> 
>  
> 
> This is the death scene for Sam.

"You know with heaven being open again and you getting your wings back, it's not like you have to stay here anymore." Dean spat the words harshly. The angel stopped up short.  
"Dean, I like helping you. There is still so much going on in heaven and it's nice to feel some normalcy." There was no hiding the tone of dejection that crept into his voice.

"Well, First of all, we don't need help. And second of all normalcy is not something we do. So click your heels and go on back to your pearly gates, we don't need you." There was a sound of rushing fabric and the angel had disappeared. Dean sighed heavily and ran a hand over his tired face. He walked back into the motel room and Sam's bitch-face greeted him in full force.  
"You're going to have to forgive him sometime. We will need his help eventually. I know you don't want to here it from me, but we kind of owe him our lives." Sam's judgment was clear in his tone.  
"Yeah, Sammy, save the soap box for another day, okay? This is a regular hunt, regular monsters, regular procedure we do not need some holier-than-thou entitled wing-freak to go screwing everything up. You and me, that's all we need. That's all we'll ever need. I am so done with dick angels, that one in particular," Dean held up a hand as Sam attempted to make a counter argument, "End of discussion." He left the motel room and got into the car.  
Dean sighed deeply as he sat in the parking lot of the closest bar. Sam was right of course they did owe Castiel their lives, several times over. But Dean just couldn't forgive the angel for screwing off right when they needed him, not returning any of their calls for months and then showing up out of the blue and expecting everything to be fine. Dean beat his fist against the steering wheel.  
"Look, Cas. I'm sorry. Its just you can't show up after months of nothing and expect everything to be fine again. I know heaven has been crazy; it's just," Dean sighed at the empty car. There was so much he wasn't willing or ready to say. "We could have really used your help back in Pasadena and you were no where to be found." Dean's voice trailed off, it was a crappy way to end a prayer but it was the truth. They had lost two very good hunters when Cas had left them in the middle of a hunt and then he had vanished for almost six whole months.

The familiar rush of fabric and Cas was suddenly sitting in the passengers seat. "Dean, I'm sorry. You know I didn't have a choice." The gravely voice filled the electrically charged air between them. Anger rose in Dean's chest. He swallowed it back.

Dean was not ready to get into a fight with the angel. "Yeah, I know, but next time we're on a hunt and I need you to have my back, how do I know if you will be there?" Dean knew these words would hit their mark, he didn't even need to look up to feel the hurt radiating off Cas.

"Dean, I will always protect you. When have I ever given you reason to doubt my protection of you?" Cas' voice was barely above a whisper. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose attempting to nip the heavy guilt now spreading in the pit of his stomach. Without another word he got out of the car and walked into the bar.

The hunt went off without a hitch. A simple windego, left Sam with a nasty gash on his back and Dean with a couple of bruised ribs, nothing a few days at the bunker doing research couldn't help. After a long sleep and a hot shower Dean was almost back to normal. Dean was just starting to move comfortably again.  
Sam had his perpetual Dean-I-think-we-should-discuss-this bitch face on high when Dean walked out of the shower on the third day to see Cas sitting in one of the arm chairs reading a book.  
Dean sighed and continued into the kitchen; Sam close on his heels. "Seriously, Sam. What do you want me to say? We talked about it, he understands my terms, and we're cool. I still don't forgive the douche-bag but he seems to have picked up on a new case and we should probably hear him out."  
The case involved seven missing people and one 'escapee' who had claimed ___ "Sounds to me like something freaky in the bad way." Dean said lightly and looked up from his computer to see Sam and Cas exchange looks.  
"Sounds like it could be a Djinn. Or a Crossroads demon who is a little overzealous." Sam shrugged. Cas' face furrowed.  
"I looked into a demon but there weren't any of the usual signs." Cas had clearly been stumped and that's why he was here asking for the Winchesters' help. Dean bit back his annoyance at the way Castiel's eyes slowly looked him up and down as if he could read every inch of his skin.  
"Yeah, but demons don't usually have their beneficiaries disappear either, makes it a lot harder to collect. So, when do we head out?" Dean was always eager to get back on the road, especially when those two kept looking at each other like that. Cas' furrowed, confused look staring intently at Sam's raging bitch-face. Dean sighed, he seemed to do that quite often around the two, it was like they had some big secret and refused to share with him.  
They headed off to the hunt, Cas insisting on meeting them there, with his wings back he almost hated getting from place to place any other way. Dean rolled his eyes to which Sam's ever animated bitch-brow came into view. "Dean, you can't really blame the guy can you? He went almost a year without the use of his wings, just let him have this one?" The accusatory tone in Sam's voice irritated Dean more than it probably should have. Dean sighed, clenching his jaw. Sam looked as if he were going to say something then quickly thought better of it and stared out the impala's passenger window. The sun had nearly set when they finally reached the highway and Dean had skipped through almost every song in his repertoire. Groaning loudly he switched the radio off, knowing this would mean Sam would try to get all Dr. Phil on him. Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel and waited.  
"Look Dean, I know you don't want to hear it from me, but Cas is really trying. The least you could do it cut the guy a little slack now and then. I know things were pretty intense when he was human, but he has duties other than watching out for us all of the time." Dean focused on the road ahead of him but he let his mind wander.

___

Death stood ominously in door way to the garage where Dean was working. He softly cleared his throat causing dean to stand quickly and hit his head on the open hood of the car. "Son of a bitch. Give a guy some warning will you." 

"Have you decided?"

"What between here and where ever else you want to send me? I don't see how there is much of a choice."

"Yes, but it is your choice to make. And If you want to stay in heaven you have to let go of the anger you are harboring. It helps no one." Death leaned on his crows head cane.

"Thanks for the advice, excuse me for ignoring the 'forgiveness makes the heart lighter' crap from Death, it just doesn't work for me." Dean went back to his work.

"Now, I normally don't care for these human trivialities, however Dean Winchester, I am quite fond of you." Death walked to the hunter and placed a hand on his shoulder. When Dean looked up he was suddenly in a field overlooking a dark ominous sky. 

"Alright, Ghost Of Christmas Future, where the hell are we ?" 

Death scoffed, a sound like old paper scraping together. "I just wanted to show you what happened the day I took your brother." Dean's face paled. He swallowed quickly and he took a deep breath. Death waved a hand dramatically towards the empty field and like ink splatters on a blank page, the lot filled with action. The hunter instantly recognized where they were. His heart automatically froze in his chest. And as if someone flicked a switch the battle sounds crashed around them.

The older Winchester's voice was barely above a whisper, "Sammy." This was the place that caused all the nights he woke in a cold sweat. He had watched the scene fold out before him a million times in his nightmares. He knew it was useless, but he still ran from Death's side and towards his little brother, pushing black smoke clouded creatures out of his way as he tore across the grass. He got within feet of his brother, the thick ashy air cleared and Sam's body lay still and motionless. The sound suddenly stopped and all he could hear was his shouting like a wounded animal escaping from his chest as he watched helplessly. "NOOO! NOT AGAIN! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?! SAMMY! SAMMY! GET UP!" He fell to his knees his head in his hands. Death strode over to him and cleared his throat.

"Watch closely." Death's voice was like a sledge hammer breaking through the stone Dean had suddenly found himself trapped in. Dean begrudgingly looked up and watched himself rush over to the body silently screaming as it started to rain heavily. Death sighed. "Very poetically dramatic. But this is the part I would like you to see." 

Dean shamelessly let tears streak down his face as he continued watching. The inky monsters that they had been fighting surrounded the two Winchesters as the older one cradled his brother's head in his lap wiping the blood and dirt from the immobile face, sobbing and yelling. There was a third figure standing behind the brothers, pain etched so deeply in his features he was almost unrecognizable. "Cas?" Dean looked to death questioningly, "He wasn't there. I would know. What is this? This is not how it happened." Death shook his head and pointed. Dean looked over and continued to watch. The inky monsters rushed closer to the grieving brother as the third figure stood guard. The sounds of fighting filled the air once more as thunder crackled loudly, carrying a heavy animal battle cry with it as the angel sprang into action. 

"Ahh yes. All very theatrical." Death mused as lightning streaked across the sky illuminating the angel's giant wings. They acted as a shield protecting the Winchesters as Castiel fought the beasts, his face dark with hatred and angel blade flashing so quickly it made it hard to follow. Dean sat in awe. 

"I never knew. He saved my life." Dean's heart felt too heavy for his chest, the familiar longing for the blue eyed angel burned under his skin.


	8. All Is Forgiven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I was having a hard time writing a fitting ending.

Dean drove for days. The perks of a personal heaven was the never-ending winding highway, Cas seemed to have thought of everything. And there it was again, that weight in his chest whenever he thought of the angel. Sam was right; maybe he had gone soft. 

The drive was relaxing. Gave him plenty of time to sort out his thoughts. He still hadn’t spoken to Cas since he had chosen to stay. That was a conversation he wasn’t sure he was ready to have. 

“I'm alone  
Yeah, I don't know if I can face the night  
I'm in tears and the cryin' that I do is for you  
I want your love - Let's break the walls between us  
Don't make it tough - I'll put away my pride  
Enough's enough I've suffered and I've seen the light.”

Dean couldn’t help but to sing along. The familiar empty pit settled in his stomach. The old hunter pulled over when the road got blurry. He took a moment to calm himself. Taking a deep breath Dean cleared his throat. It was now or never. “Heya, Cas? If you aren’t too busy I was thinking that maybe you and I could have a little chat.”

“Baby  
You're my angel  
Come and save me tonight  
You're my angel  
Come and make it all right”

Dean sat in heavy silence as the song continued to play. There were a million thoughts running through his head and he didn’t know where to start. Dean beat his fist into the steering wheel in frustration as his eyes threatened to spill over again. 

“Don't know what I'm gonna do  
About this feeling inside  
Yes it's true - Loneliness took me for a ride”

There was a familiar rush of fabric and the smell of ocean breeze. “Hello Dean.” Dean cleared his throat and punched the bridge of his nose in a petty attempt to will the tears back into his eyes.

With a husky whispered voice Dean let the words he had bottled up spill out “I didn’t know. I am so freaking sorry. There isn’t anything I can say to even begin to apologize. I…” Dean’s voice finally gave out and he let out a sob before catching himself. He didn’t dare look up into those endless blue eyes he now felt boring into the side of his face. He stared at his hands in his lap. Cas put his hand over top of both of Dean’s.

“Come and save me tonight  
You're the reason I live  
You're the reason I die  
You're the reason I give  
When I break down and cry  
Don't need no reason why”  


Dean froze as Cas moved his hand up to his face and tilted Dean’s chin up. Cas looked into Dean’s eyes with such love and forgiveness that it overwhelmed the hunter. “Cas, I.” Dean attempted to speak again but failed to find the words as he stared into the blue gems shining with moisture. He swallowed quickly and forced himself to keep looking at the angel.

“Dean, All is forgiven.” Dean wasn’t sure if Cas had actually spoken the words, or just imprinted them into his heart. It suddenly felt like the leaden weight in his chest dissolved. Without a second thought Dean leaned into the hand pressed to his cheek and towards the Blue eyed angel. Closing his eyes, Dean suddenly became hyper aware of everything around him, he heard Cas' soft gasp, felt the stubble on his cheek and before he could stop himself the hunter softly pressed his lips to Cas’, hoping the gesture was enough to explain everything he wasn’t sure he had the courage say. 

Cas' lips moved hesitantly against the hunters as he pulled at Dean's t-shirt. It was messy and sloppy and perfect. Dean pulled away and cleared his throat. They stared at each other in the familiar way, silently telling each other everything that needed to be said. Cas grinned widely, eyes ablaze with an awe-inspiring sense of peace and love that could barely be contained. Yes, all was forgiven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this sufficed! thank you to everyone who has read and commented and kudos-ed this! It means a lot!
> 
> I was thinking of maybe expanding on Dean's heaven, maybe including a couple more stories in this, let me know what you think.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second Fanfic I have posted, I have a whole bunch all stashed on my computer but haven't had the courage to post them, If you like what I am writing please let me know and I will post more.
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos and love. It really means a lot. :D


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